


Amor Fati

by abolkonsky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22632790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abolkonsky/pseuds/abolkonsky
Summary: Crowley's secret letters to Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 18





	1. Two Wrongs Never Make A Right

**Author's Note:**

> The letters may seem at first disconnected, but they will shape up in time. (They're arranged in a chronologically ascending order, the first few are not dated on purpose.)

Dear You-know-who-because-you-are-that-who

enough time has passed for me to realize that eternity is not a gift for the fallen. good for you, Angel, up there where the music is tonal, the streets are clean, and the glasses are half-full.  
the punishment for a spiteful "but why?" was measured loosely with both hands and without a second thought, it's an angel's world. just yesterday i was dying to see your face when your image looked back at me from someone's morning toast. why toast? what's the deal with that. I'm dying to know, (and also still, to see your face).  
i'm so marred by your heavenly kind of suffering, this body i inhabit is sick. in gesunden Körper, gesunder Geist. i imagine you laugh when you read this. i imagine you read this. i imagine you. a lot.  
shockingly enough outside the law of god life is pointless only redeemed by the pleasure of spoiling what's not yet rotten. i wish to be your only vice of heart.  
i know you wouldn't fall for me. (good one? i think so)

yours truly but not really

C.


	2. Not Fit to Touch the Hem of Your Garment

Dear DEAR

no roses without thorns, i've been told. wish i knew how to reach you. i have stories to tell you that would set whole rooms of people alaugh. they say the good is everywhere, well, i looked and not so much a single speck i found. your reflection, i'm seeing in lakes, in lonely meadows, in the eyes of deers under a car's headlight, in the smog and iron dust of cities.  
the rebels are the loneliest, who to tell i'm not on the right and your type's not on the wrong. the war sirens are crying again, what about the burning flesh, how does that smell fit into the Big Plan. to whom do those souls write a bill to, and how many zeros? funnier even the question of goodness. be good if you can, but be good for what. my kingdom for a reason.  
my kingdom for you.

sincerely (?)  
yours(!)

C.


	3. Up So Close I Never Get To See Your Face

Dear Aziraphael

this silly secrecy is eating me away. show some leg. never mind. imagine, I counted five crows sitting on the tree beside my window this morning, meaning? what do you think? don't say "the end", that's silly. nothing's ever at an end, not for us at least. where I end you begin and vice-versa, there's no helping it. the Camille handcream you sent was fine, my skin is good as new. you can't imagine how paralysed I am in lonely country houses, in even lonelier hospitals lying in wait for the change to come. I try to take big breaths and I tire and I try to take big steps and I'm getting nowhere. your blinding light finds me in tears, I don't see your point. if only I could grab on to some stern axioms and steady ideals.

just a telegram, just send a line.

pleases and regards

C.


	4. Commissioning a Symphony in C

Dear 

all eternity is slipping away between my fingers. how is your divine mission, how is it to work for the victors? how is it to have the last laugh and the first breath of fresh air, the finest bite of every meal? how is it to sit with the blessed? you think those devils in lambskin attire who rather serve in heaven than rule in hell are your comrades? thought so. I have no news to share with your Highness, your know it all, heard it all, seen it all, touched it all, wrecked it all, had it all... and done away with it all, bare hands, without remorse. maybe you're blinded by that very divine light, haven't anyone told you not to look into that directly, and for so long? the pretension, the hubris. we, You and I, became all too human. watch your back, I'm behind you and I might step on the hem of your garment. but don't be afraid, it's because I cannot do anything other than follow. anything other than worship your footsteps and be the slave of your sight.

from down below with love

C.


	5. It's Coming Down

To You 

I was down the meadows and heard all of Nature praise you with thousands of its voices. they sing about your evergreen smile. but now it's thunderous and windy, where's the lightning to lick you with its tongue? up there, at your place, they're asking for unquestioned faith, they despise the lightest taint of doubt. well, I'm nothing but doubt, nothing but a helpless 'why', nothing but a bitter 'it's not deserved'. if magnanimity is such a venomous virtue, then what else is left for someone who wants to counterbalance the cold nights, the blossomless springs, the half-empty glasses, the tired hands, the measured decay. when, at the last syllable of recorded time, You and I stand tall, I'll still be without The Answer. rest only exchanged for servitude in his kingdom, well for that price I won't buy it. the devil takes it. may he prove his brightest and most graceful angel wrong. the light of my eyes for a Reason. 

yours

C.


	6. Two Can Keep A Secret

there are more things in heaven and earth yada yada, my dear Aziraphale, but what about hell. i tell you it's tedious. sinners left and right a bit of hellfire, a choir of screams. the morale is low, to put it that way. now i remember heaven and how even the sighs were spirited. almost makes me want to not take everything under. almost makes me see fit to mold a better world with the fire and the harnessed hatred of all sinners toiling away in the depth of my residence.  
almost.  
i know your secret angel.  
i know your dirty secret. you and your chums are sitting about waiting for judgement day, waiting for the divine satisfaction of watching the damned suffer their last suffering. at the end, you too are paid in tears and cries. that we share.


	7. Komödie

Azi, you're the three headed beast at the bottom  
Of my inner hell, of my private circles  
Chewing on me since the beginning, after the eternity  
My divine punishment, my honey dolor  
I, the frauds of frauds  
You, the most betrayed of all betrayed  
Your white silk gown, your golden lapel  
My false-tone 'mercy', my silver salvation  
Your eyes, your 'no'  
My sigh, heads low  
My fall  
My vice  
Your bleeding Christ


End file.
